


my love is here

by missedcall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguity, M/M, all i know is they're the same age, they never actually get together, they're 19 tho when louis goes out, this is a sad fic so beware, trigger warning for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missedcall/pseuds/missedcall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Was wondering if this was ever going to happen again." Harry says softly, weakly. "I don't want you to go, Lou." He says, just above a whisper. Louis can hear the tremble of his voice. Harry's crying. Louis sighs pulling him tighter against his chest. </p><p>"Have to, Haz." Louis says. It's not convincing. </p><p>Harry turns over, looking up at Louis through watery eyes. "No you don't." He says. "Stay here, stay with me, Louis. You don't have to-" He stops, choking out a sob. He's given up completely, just uttering the words to say he tried and now Louis' crying, too.</p><p>Harry's distant and Louis is in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my love is here

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely off of Florence + the Machine's Never Let Me Go. I'm not entirely certain what this is.
> 
> Also I'd recommend listening to Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra on **repeat** ~~if you wanna cry~~ for the full experience.

"I don't know," Harry says softly, solemnly. "I just don't know anymore."

Louis sighs in sympathy, he doesn't know what to do. "Harry are you—do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

Harry shakes his head in his palm, sniffling. He sits up, meeting Louis' eyes blankly. "No, you should go. Get home." 

Louis would be lying if he said the denial didn't sting a bit. He nods. "Yeah, alright."

***

"Hey," Louis says, walking barefoot on the cold sand and sitting beside Harry, not at all unnerved by his presence. "Your mum told me this'd be the best place to find you. Can't imagine why I never thought of it before."

Harry's silent, salty wind blowing his hair back as he stares off at the cloud covered sea. "I just, I like the sea, you know?" Louis nods, but he doesn't know, never knows. Harry glances at him sideways before looking back. "'S just, it's such a lonely body, but it doesn't feel lonely when I'm here. Feels comforting, cold and alone together." 

Louis holds back a shiver and squeezes himself tight. That hurt a bit, but Louis knows Harry won't hear the words he wants to speak. He takes a deep breath. 

"Almost drowned when I was 'bout seven. Never felt anything like it." Love. Love kind of feels like drowning, Louis wants to tell him. "Don't plan on it. Not again. Not till I'm dead." He mumbles half under his breath, but it was clear he didn't care if Louis heard or not. Never really does, always expecting that he does anyway. 

Louis sighs, muscles tense and back aching as he shivers. "Your mum," He speaks up, "She's got tea back at home. Hot tea. We could get some? Bring it out here, maybe?" 

Harry shakes his head, he hasn't looked at Louis once. "No, you go ahead, I can see you shivering. I'll just wait out here." Louis' heart drops. 

"Yeah, alright."

***

Religion's always been a burden on Harry, always something he's dreaded. He doesn't belong in it, he thinks. Doesn't belong in heaven, doesn't have a chance. But he studied it hard, if only just for his personal torture.

"You know how the sinners, in Matthew, they ask Jesus, challenge him, what the most important commandment is?" Harry asks one night, moonlight filtering in on his otherwise dark room. Louis shifts beneath Harry, waking himself up from his almost sleep. He gazes at the wall tiredly. Harry shifts, too, petting Louis' hair absentmindedly, admiring it as he contemplates. 

"Jesus replies to them,  _'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind',_ says it's the greatest commandment. And the second one, the simpler one,  _'Love your neighbor as yourself',_ he says, is equally important. To follow those is to follow the law of God entirely, to carve your path to heaven." The hand on Louis' hair never stops, but Louis' heart does, just for a second, just a heartbeat long. 

"But I don't understand that. It's just—how can you love your neighbor the way you love yourself if you don't? Mum, she calls that ungodly, to think such terrible thoughts of one's self, changes the channel without a single prayer on the news of those who killed themselves, couldn't take it anymore. She just, she doesn't know, Louis, she doesn't understand." Harry takes a deep breath and sighs, wrapping his arms around Louis once again and placing a tender, lingering kiss on the side of his neck. 

"I love you, though." He says lightly, and it's as if the words hold no weight to them, mean nothing more than anything. "Love you lots." He sighs into Louis' neck, drifting easily into sleep.

Louis shifts, the heat of Harry's embrace and the weight of all of Harry's words somehow making him uncomfortable. He stays up for hours. 

***

"Sometimes I wish I could drift out with the sea, you know?" Louis' attention snaps to Harry, but he tries to act like he doesn't care as much as he clearly does. Harry sees right through it. He thinks Louis feels sorry for him. "Don't mean to die, it's just, there are no rules out there, you know? No God, no prayers, just the sea and it's waves. Just the sea." He pauses, silent for a moment. 

"She takes you when she wants, there's never date, never a time, never a judgement, and you just never know. She takes you on your highest days or on your lowest, they're of no matter to her, she just takes you. That's what I want, Louis. It's not that I want to die, but I want to be able to live every day of my life thinking that maybe, just maybe, it might be my last, and there's nothing more that I could ask for. That's all I want. To be content enough with life that it doesn't hurt knowing that it might be my last day, doesn't make me eager with the possibility."

***

 It's a few years later, they're a few years older, a few years closer when Louis teaches himself to let go, slowly. He can't have Harry around forever, he knows that. They both do.

"There's a war coming about." Louis comments softly, just trying to speak. Harry looks at him dead on.

"I'm already at war, Louis." It's almost harsh, but there's a brokenness in his eye and the tired bags beneath it that counter it's intensity.

Louis sighs, looking back to the road. "'M gonna enlist, Harry." It wasn't an easy decision and Louis' not decidedly the strong type, but he's got a firm grip and steady hands that leave him ripe for the plucking. "Get money for uni."

"Drop me off here." Harry says abruptly. It startles Louis. "Drop me off." He repeats. "Here." 

Louis wants to convince Harry to let him drive him home, but Louis knows Harry only hears so much before he's gone entirely, drifting from him like a locket in the sea. He pulls over reluctantly. 

"Harry—" He tries, but Harry's already got his belt unbuckled and is hopping out the door, shutting it with a definite slam. Louis jumps. He trails behind Harry for a bit, planning to take him home one way or another. Harry stops and walks the other way, never once passing a glance Louis' way. Already at the past stoplight before Louis can decide what to do. It stings.

***

Louis takes meager steps up to Harry's room, resigned, reluctant, and heartbroken altogether. Sixteen steps, sixteen steps and he'll see Harry, get to love him. Sixteen steps and he has to say goodbye, not for long. He's got his uniform on, cap held firmly in his hands as he enters the room, considers staying, just for Harry.

"Harry," He says softly. "Harry, I—I'm heading out tonight." Harry's silent. He won't meet Louis' eyes. Louis sits at the end of his bed, petting his cap of any lint. And Harry's room it's dark, always dark, but Louis doesn't think he can take it. Silence passes between them and there's a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes that tell him he's gotta do it, that it's now or never. He clears his throat.

"Harry," Louis says softly, meekly. His voice is shaky. "I—I love you, Harry." Harry's attention snaps over to Louis. 

"No you don't." He reasons, and it's convincing, the tone in which he says it. It makes Louis' heart shrivel. "No one should love me. I'll not let you go through that. I'll not let you let  _me_  go through that." He says, just above a whisper. It's not clear if he's hurt or contemplative, but Louis doesn't disregard his comment. 

"Harry—" There's a pause. Louis doesn't know what he was going to say, fully expecting Harry to interrupt him before he got a chance. Silence lays over them like a blanket.

"Tonight?" Harry asks softly. Louis nods weakly, trying to hold back his tears. Harry sighs. Louis gets up and walks over to the bed, placing his cap on the bedside counter and fitting himself in nicely, not worried about the wrinkles he'll be reprimanded for later, just wanting to hold Harry. 

Harry falls into Louis' spoon easily, cuddling into his warmth. It's a stiff embrace, Louis' uniform hindering it from being anything else. Louis rests his chin on Harry's head. 

"Was wondering if this was ever going to happen again." Harry says softly, weakly. "I don't want you to go, Lou." He says, just above a whisper. Louis can hear the tremble of his voice. Harry's crying. Louis sighs pulling him tighter against his chest. 

"Have to, Haz." Louis says. It's not convincing. 

Harry turns over, looking up at Louis through watery eyes. "No you don't." He says. "Stay here, stay with me, Louis. You don't have to—" He stops, choking out a sob. He's given up completely, just uttering the words to say he tried and now Louis' crying, too. Harry sniffles. "Just—kiss me, Lou. Before you go, kiss me so I'll not have something to wait for, so I'll know if anything happens to you, know how it feels to be loved."

Harry's looking up at Louis with wet, pleading eyes. Louis knows it should be backwards, that he should save the kiss for his return home, but Harry, he's so  _torn_ , so broken apart—Louis can't disappoint him any further. Louis nods, vision blurred as his tears fall, huffing a small laugh at his own pathetic self. "Okay." He whispers, smiling. And it's the first time he feels okay leaving Harry, knows he'll always have something to come back home to. 

It's a ginger kiss, and Harry can't help but cry into it, wanting to hold onto Louis forever, never wanting him to leave, wanting to always feel this loved. They kiss and kiss for what feels like hours, crying together after, Louis holding Harry to his chest as he cries, assuring him that it's going to be okay, that he'll come home to him. Louis makes him promise that he'll take care of himself when he's gone, Harry makes him promise to show him love when he gets back home, makes him promise that, when he's gone, Louis will love himself twice as hard, just for Harry.

***

It's dark on the forty-fifth night of Louis' deployment, quite late as well, he reckons. The sky is black with the occasional star that glimmers, just for a second, before fading back into the black. It reminds him of Harry. And that's all he remembers, all that's left in his brain when he's taken down. 

 _Harry_ _._

***

When Louis imagined coming home, he imagined it would be in a box of wood, carried out by his mates. Louis imagined it'd be a comfortable departure, always imagined a bed of velvet's got to be just the way to go out. When Louis made it home, though, he never imagined his welcome gift would be the casket he thought he belonged in. 

"He was waiting for you," Anne said, choking back her sobs. "Just a couple days more," She cries, "Just a couple days more and you would've been home." Louis cries with her and he swears it's all his fault, she swears it's not. 

"How did he go?" He asks softly, not wanting the answer. She sniffles, holding his hand. 

"Peacefully." 

***

Louis' bed is cold when he gets home, his room is dark, and his house feels empty, everything feels empty and Harry's  _gone_. He's gone. 

***

Harry's mother, she went to live with her sister. Louis swore he'd never use the keys she gave him, swore he'd never do that to himself, but it's the final goodbye that Louis knows he's missing, and he owes Harry that at the least. The house is silent when Louis walks in, whispers of memories he had lying within the dust. Louis doesn't find comfort in the kitchen or the front room, feels lonely and cold as he stares up at the daunting flight of stairs up to Harry's bedroom, dark and lonely. 

Sixteen steps, sixteen steps and he has to say goodbye. Sixteen steps and he has to say goodbye forever.

Louis sighs when he opens the door, watching the dust whirl around as if Harry wasn't living here just days ago. It's painful. He shuts it softly, as if Harry were there, asleep in his mattress and Louis was trying not to disturb him. He sits on the side of the bed—Harry's side—and just stares on blankly, no thoughts in his head, too many words on his tongue. He starts tearing up, and though he knows he's mourning, he's not sure what it was exactly that got to him at that moment. Just the shock of it all. 

He sniffs, feeling the sheets tenderly as if they were Harry, tugging his shoes off and wrapping himself in them as if he could feel Harry's warmth. It's quiet and lonely, but the sheets smell of soap, tears and youth, smell like Harry. Louis nuzzles his nose into the pillow, crying, smelling Harry, feeling the cold wrap around him as if he were bum naked on a London street in winter. He still can't believe that Harry's gone, can't grasp it. It kind of feels like Harry's just gone off somewhere, to Australia or something, and Louis knows he's never coming back. 

But this is a different kind of heartbreak, and at least Harry would be  _breathing_ over there, walking on his legs and  _living_ , but Louis knows he's never coming back, not a chance of it, not a single hope.

***

He's got his uniform on, cap held firmly in his hand as he enters the room, wondering why it was he never stayed, never considered how much Harry needed him, how much they needed each other. When the service is over and all is said and done, buried under a pile of brown, Louis sets his cap down, just where Harry's head would go, just for Harry.

And Harry's room it's dark, always dark, but Louis doesn't think he can take it. As Louis cuddles his tears into the pillow once again, having decided to buy the house off Harry's mother just for this room, just for Harry, he feels the crinkle of paper beneath his fingertips. Louis pulls up to look over it, wiping his tears and focusing his vision.

 

_You promised you'd show me real love._

_In hating myself most of my life, I learned that there is no truer love than the love for one's self,_

_the one for one's self while loving another. T_ _he truest love I ever_

 _experienced was the love I held for you, t_ _he only love I was ever capable of holding._

_You promised to love yourself twice as hard. Don't you dare break it._

_I never told you I loved you,_ _but I do._

_I think, I think now I know what happiness is._

_It lies in you, my happiness._

_I'm bad at these things, you know,_

_but don't try and find me, I'll be waiting for you,_ _happily._

 _I read your journal when you were gone, j_ _ust trying to feel you there again._

 _Y_ _ou're right,_ _love is a lot like drowning._

_Love, yours truly and forever,_

_Harry. x_

 

Beside it, under the pillow where Louis found the note is his journal and a bottle of pills,  _'If you must'_  scribbled over the top. There's a locket, too, stuck between the pages of his journal, an unprofessionally engraved  _LH_ on the side. Louis opens his journal the page the chain holds, and on it is scribbled a simple sentence. 

_Don't forget me._

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://heartsgiveup.tumblr.com)


End file.
